


Normalcy

by smilesofthesilvermoon



Category: Charlie and the Chocolate Factory - All Media Types
Genre: Bad Parenting, Character Study, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-02
Updated: 2020-09-02
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:40:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,001
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26247313
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smilesofthesilvermoon/pseuds/smilesofthesilvermoon
Summary: For Doris Teavee, however, the wish for normalcy was just another unattainable dream that she could only wish for, as she knew that as long as Mike was the way he was, then being just another ordinary family was something that was just simply out of the question.
Comments: 2
Kudos: 13





	Normalcy

Normalcy.

Something that everyone was already expected to have at their fingertips, something that is ultimately seen as necessary for survival in the real word. For it is better to be seen as someone that is "normal" than to be seen as some sort of outcast that doesn't fit in. 

For Doris Teavee, however, the wish for normalcy was just another unattainable dream that she could only wish for, as she knew that as long as Mike was the way he was, then being just another ordinary family was something that was just simply out of the question.

However, that didn't mean that she couldn't pretend that what she wanted was something that wasn't real.

So, she decided to put on a mask. She portrayed the part of how she thought she should be by society's standards: your stereotypically perfect and well-rounded housewife, mother, and spouse. Although, of course, maybe she wasn't the best at her role. There were definitely cracks in the mask she wore, as when slip ups and mishaps had occurred, which showed who she really was: A broken woman who was also at the edge of her seat, riddled with an undeniable sort of anxiousness.

Doris knew that she wasn't being true to herself but she didn't mind that all. She'd rather be living a lie than to be living what she considered to be an all-out hell, her reality. She had decided that fact a long time ago.

In fact, she had been living in this dream reality of hers for so long that she ultimately forgot how to distinguish fact from fiction. It's all that she's known for so many years and today was no different.

So here Doris Teavee sat, staring fixedly at the window lost in her thoughts, as hands with a vibrant red-painter manicure occasionally stirred her martini glass. 

In the rare, few moments like these, this was when she had truly felt a little glimpse of bliss, of pure happiness. A perfect time to self-reflect.

No distractions. No stress. No Mike.

However, with all good things, Doris' happiness hadn't lasted as long as she had hoped.

When dinner time had come around, that's when everything had gone downhill again for her.

Yes, of course, at the point she had gotten used to dealing with Mike. But a situation like this wasn't really something customary and or normal for the Teavee family. They rarely had family dinners due to the fact that Mike usually insists on eating the food while locking himself off from the rest of the world, and usually Doris never denied him due to her fear.

Due to the fact that she was in a good mood earlier, Doris had been the one who decided that maybe today would be the perfect opportunity for a family dinner, as Mike's father had recently gone out of town and Doris had finally found new bravery within her short-lasted confidence from that morning to talk to Mike like a mother should talk to her son

As expected, she happened to regret that decision real fast with what was soon to come.

There her son Mike sat, (or Mikey, as she affectionately referred to him), who was nearly ten years old but yet seemed to have this desensitized seriousness that made him seem older than he actually was.

And that fact made Doris' heart break.

The fact that he isn't able to like the other kids his age, and probably will never be.

He hadn't talked and or touched his food for that matter, seeming far more concerned looking down at something that appeared to be situated in his own lap, as his gaze had never shifted from that spot and seemed to be too invested to look up.

After a moment, Mike began to search restlessly for something in his jacket pocket. After a minute of fumbling, he had pulled out two items, one small, gliniting and silver, while the other was more rectangular in shape, easily recognizable from its white and crimson packaging as well as it's bold lettering.

"Mikey," Doris started, trying to sound polite, although her words were laced with an undeniable sort of nervousness, "can you not do that at the table?"

Mike hadn't budged. He simply hadn't heard her.

She breathed a shaky little sigh and then swallowed the lump that formed at the base of her throat, mustering all the courage that she could.

"Mikey," she repeated, although her voice sounded more convicted this time, somewhat more authoritative, "can you not do that at the table? Please, for me." She added in a little smile, a smile that seemed desperate, and in a strange way, helpless.

"Huh?" Mike had questioned her, looking up from his hand-held device, as he gripped onto the cigarette tightly. He looked at her quizzically, his tone bored and his face annoyed.

As Doris made eye contact with her son, she faltered a bit, not really sure of what to do and or what to say. She felt uneasy, and although she really didn't like to admit it, downright scared.

She tried one last time, although this time was more of a desperate plea than a simple suggestion.

"C-can you not do that in here?" She stuttered a bit, forcing herself to smile, although weakly.

"No," he plainly replied, his brown orbs falling from his mother's as he went back to the small phone he carried in his hands.

A part of Doris wanted to say more, the braver part of herself she proposed, although she couldn't bring herself to do it.

He grabbed his cigarette and exhaled again.

In every argument they had, Mike was the one who always got the last say, the one who always won.

Due to this fact, she forced herself to stay quiet, because she knew, if she did try to come up with some type of counter argument, things would still end up the same way, no matter the scenario.

It simply wasn't worth it.

**Author's Note:**

> Ever since I joined the CatCF fandom, I have been itching to write something on these two simply because of the fact that I love their dynamic in West End and just think that they're probably not only one of the most interesting interpretations of the characters, but also are probably one of my favorites as well. I've had this in the form of Google Docs for almost a year now but only recently decided to tweak some stuff and upload it here. I haven't been writing much lately so maybe it would obvious to you guys that I'm a bit rusty, but I hope you guys enjoy it nonetheless!


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